


The art of getting by

by pestifer



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Universe, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, a conversation under the stars, atsukita if you squint, idk what is this really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:42:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29085564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pestifer/pseuds/pestifer
Summary: He glances at the festival's booths from the little hill where he's sitting, colorful and neatly displayed beneath him. Delicious smells and excited voices fill his nose and ears, which is comforting in a way. The celebrations are the same every year, yet people always look forward to them as if it's their first time joining.As if the future isn't scary, because there is at least one thing worth anticipating.In which Suna wonders, and Osamu answers.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 5
Kudos: 37





	The art of getting by

The sky is littered with stars that night. Suna likes looking at it; it seems more vibrant in early June, promising a special summer break.  
His last one, after all.

He glances at the festival's booths from the little hill where he's sitting, colorful and neatly displayed beneath him. Delicious smells and excited voices fill his nose and ears, which is comforting in a way. The celebrations are the same every year, yet people always look forward to them as if it's their first time joining.

As if the future isn't scary, because there is at least one thing worth anticipating.

Suna isn't sure if he'll miss school or his classmates or his current volleyball team, but he knows that specific memories will stick to him no matter what.  
_What a traitor of Inarizaki's team motto, uh?_ \- he thinks to himself, fidgeting with the sleeves of his black yukata.

A light tap on his shoulder startles him until he sees who the hand belongs to. Half of his face is covered by a fox mask, but Suna could recognize those cloudy eyes and the downward tilt of that mouth everywhere.

"Nappin' away, uh? I thought ya had abandoned that habit, Sunarin..." The boy quips, sitting beside Suna in a flowy motion. He takes off the mask and offers him a takoyaki on a toothpick, still hot. 

"You were taking too long at the stand, 'Samu... and the air was getting stuffy down there," Suna replies, chewing slowly. "Did your brother and Kita-san leave you too?"

"Yeah... I hafta thank them fer not makin' out right in front of me, though." Osamu exhales loudly, popping another octopus ball in his mouth.

Suna laughs. When Kita had confirmed his presence at the festival one month ago, Atsumu had practically vibrated on the spot. And who could blame him? Meeting each other is often a privilege they don't have because of school and university. So no one dares say anything when Atsumu wears his best light cotton robe and meticulously combs his hair, occupying the bathroom for a whole afternoon. 

Suna feels luckier than most to see Osamu daily, as he recollects lunch boxes shared on an empty rooftop and drilling volleyball practices. Both parties regularly ended up sprawled on the gym floor, limbs aching and sweat seeping into their clothes. And it was always one of the twins who had to physically drag Suna back to the locker room. No one wanted to behold the pitiful sight of an apparently half-dead and smelly body on school grounds, in all honesty. 

Suna scoots closer to Osamu, suddenly reminded of how little time they have to spend together, nuzzling his nose in the hollow of his neck. It's warm, and it smells... well, it smells just like him. Something familiar that he has associated with the word _home_. 

"Rin? You okay?"

"Why? Can't a man show affection to his own boyfriend now?" He says jokingly, pressing in even closer.

"Wasn't complainin'," Osamu answers as he cards his fingers through dark and shiny locks. "But yer thinkin' about something, right?"

Suna speaks after a few beats of silence, his mind focusing instead on the rise and fall of Osamu's chest.

"Isn't it weird? In less than a year, we'll all be in different places, doing different things. Our senpais have done it before us, our parents, too..."

Osamu chuckles. "Rin, yer talkin' about growing up, ain'tcha?" 

Suna scrunches his nose in response. "More or less, I guess. I just think everything is changing very fast."

Osamu ponders for a moment. 

He knows how the other feels, having realized it a bit sooner. At first, it was an impending sensation that sparked after the third-years had graduated. Then, it became something more tangible after he'd seriously decided to attend culinary school, followed by the heaviest fight he'd ever had with his brother. Emotionally and not. If he closes his eyes, he can clearly remember his stinging lower lip, caused by a rather wicked right blow. But that's how he and Atsumu usually resolve conflict. So, after two cups of salty tears and one ounce of genuine love, they had tasted once again their relationship's recipe. Not perfect, sometimes bitter, but good enough to sustain them both. 

"Well, there are some things that will stay the same," Osamu states, slightly shifting so Suna can rest his head on his shoulder comfortably.  


"For example?"

"'Tsumu's bad temper, my love fer food... yer sister's accent," 

"It's irreversible now, isn't it?" Interrupts Suna, jabbing his boyfriend playfully in the ribs.

Osamu smirks knowingly. "It's yer fault fer askin' me to help you babysit so many times, an' everyone here speaks like this. Yer the odd one out."

"What else?" 

"Yer expression when you stuff someone's spike is memorable."

Suna seems content with the answer because he quiets down until other questions knock politely on the back of his head. Damn, maybe he is really becoming a nostalgic sap.

"Are you afraid, though? Of all the other circumstances?"

Osamu purses his lips, tapping a finger against them. "Not anymore. We'll make stuff up as we go. It's the art of gettin' by, my dear Sunarin." 

Suna raises an eyebrow, facing the grey-haired twin fully. "Has your brain absorbed all that hair dye? When did you get so philosophical, uh?" He deadpans.

Osamu snorts in amusement, making the tiniest dimple appear on his left cheek. As Suna is the weakest of men, he kisses it with enthusiasm, earning a handful of pecks in exchange. Both of them are greedy in their own way, and it's only a matter of time until they find themselves with lightly swollen lips and flushed cheekbones, thanks to the night's warm air, too. 

Osamu stretches his legs and lies down on the fresh grass, patting the spot next to him. Suna joins him, and as he locks one arm under his head, he pushes on.

"'Samu?"

The other hums, tilting his head to give him a half-lidded glance.

"Let's come back to this festival next year. And the year after, to see where we're at."

"'Kay, let's do it," Osamu responds, linking his pinkie with Suna's slender one. 

As fireworks begin to appear above them, temporarily brightening up the sky in hues of red and yellow, both teenagers can't help but secretly look at each other's profiles. 

They don't need to worry about the future if they can mold the present with their own hands.

_Together_.

**Author's Note:**

> I love these two characters A LOT and wrote this on a whim, hope I didn't butcher them too much... leave a comment and kudos if you liked it, and thanks for reading!


End file.
